


Hollow

by Erua



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gunplay, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erua/pseuds/Erua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another sketch of my two AU characters. David receives an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday gift for PN. Not necessarily set in the same timeline as 'Blind'.

David turns his key in the lock of his apartment door and finds that the door isn’t locked at all. His hand, still holding the key, is the only thing keeping it from swinging inward. His thoughts race through the possible implications of his mistake as he allows the door to open, gently, catches it with his other hand and soundlessly takes out the key. If it even was his mistake. The lock is old and heavy, but not complex. Neither is that of the front door of the building.

He steps as quietly as he can into his small, dark hallway and closes the door behind him. What could be the worst damage they might do? He owns little of value. A fairly expensive typewriter. His record collection, a second-hand record player. A couple of books. He prays silently that at least they've gone already, that they're not waiting for him inside. If only they've left Spot alone.

Oh god, Spot. He freezes and listens. The apartment is silent.

He opens the door to the living room, switches the light on and starts violently. Someone is sitting on his couch. With one hand he is calmly stroking Spot, who lies next to him curled up into a ball and fast asleep. In his other hand he's holding a gun and pointing it at David. His face is so familiar, yet so unexpected that for a moment David feels as if he’s been transported somewhere else, to a place haunted by memories, fears and old desires that he is used to visiting only in his dreams.

"Lawrence," he says quietly.

Lawrence smiles. "It's good to see you too, brother."

"What in heaven's name are you doing?"

"I'm pointing a gun at you," Lawrence answers. He gets up and walks around the coffee table, across the wooden floor, towards David. There's still that lightness, that easy elegance in his movements, as if each step were the start of a mocking dance. "That is to say, I'm saving your conscience."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Lawrence looks him up and down for a moment. "Nice suit. Why don’t you start by taking it off."

David hesitates, glancing from his brother's face to the gun and back. Lawrence wouldn’t kill him, but hurting him was always something he rather enjoyed. What’s more, if his brother has changed in the past few years, it’s probably not in favor of his patience.

Slowly David takes off his hat and puts it down next to the telephone, removes his jacket, folds it carefully and lays it down on the floor. He continues with his shoes and socks, then his vest, his tie, his shirt and finally his trousers. For a moment he stands there in his underwear. His brother is watching him with that typical smile, just the way he used to - only now he’s holding a weapon, as if he has moulded his talent to persuade and intimidate into something colder, harder and infinitely more lethal. Then David pulls off the last remaining pieces of clothing.

Lawrence walks around him. David feels the cool muzzle of the gun touch his bare lower back, then slide slowly up his spine into his neck. He shivers. Then his brother presses the gun to one side of his neck while he begins to kiss the other side, his lips and tongue caressing David’s throat, his jawline, his ear.

"Isn't it convenient?" he whispers. “You had no choice. Your insane, criminal brother broke into your house and threatened you with a gun, forcing you to do things you would never have _dreamed_ of otherwise. Illegal, immoral, unacceptable things. You were completely..." - he moves the weapon over David’s cheek, stops at the corner of his mouth - "...powerless.”

He slides the gun back to David’s neck and kisses him. David answers the kiss cautiously, but the feeling of his brother’s lips, the taste of his tongue releases something inside of him that spreads through his body in a wild, hungry storm. He closes his eyes and gives himself over to it. Then Lawrence steps away and, still pointing the pistol at David, starts to button down his shirt and trousers.

“Lawrence, please,” David says. “Put the gun away.”

"But then how can I be certain of your complete obedience?" Lawrence retorts, grinning.

“You have it,” David says softly.

"Hmmm. I'd rather not risk it, brother. I'm dangerous, remember? Out of control. Violence is my only form of communication - isn’t that how they put it?" Lawrence aims the gun at David’s forehead. “Lie down.”

As certain as David is that Lawrence won’t actually pull the trigger, he can almost feel the point on his forehead his brother is aiming at. He sinks to his knees, then lies back, leaning on his lower arms. The floorboards are cold. Lawrence kneels down beside him. He moved the muzzle of the gun lightly over his brother’s forehead and nose, letting it rest on his lips. David open his mouth and curls his tongue around the cool, bitter metal shaft. Then he closes his lips around it and sucks.

Lawrence’s expression darkens. It takes only a few moments before he pulls the gun away, leans down and kisses David hungrily, impatiently. He grabs his brother’s shoulder, jerks him over on his side, spits into his hand and with one trousered knee pushes David’s naked legs apart.

For a moment it's as if they're both boys again, tumbling across the lawn, struggling for supremacy over the other. David's heart beating wildly as his older brother’s hand closes over his mouth, like a criminal from a movie who's going to kidnap or kill someone. The weight of Lawrence’s body holding him down, bare chest against bare back, denim-clad legs entangled. Realizing, like every time, he doesn't want to win from Lawrence at all - he wants to be overpowered, conquered by him, in a way he hardly understands.

Then his thoughts are pushed beyond the realm of reflection into that of sensation and he gasps with pain and sickness and sweet relief as he feels his brother thrusting into him, taking control of his body, his mind, his life for a few unseen, uncharted moments, like a secret gift from the very God who has forbidden such practices. Lawrence fucks him slowly, biting him wherever he can reach until David’s neck and shoulder are glowing and he drifts in a state of languorous surrender.

After a while Lawrence pulls out of him and walks over to the couch, where Spot is sitting like a sphinx, watching them intently. When he turns to sit down she jumps off and shoots across the room into the darkness of the hallway. He is holding the gun again, if he ever even let go of it, and beckons his brother to come closer.

David walks up to him, climbs over his lap, straddling him. Slowly, carefully he lowers himself over his brother’s cock and begins to move. He throws his head back, mouth open, eyes half closed, abandoning himself to the pleasure, the almost unbearable intensity of the sensations. With one hand he strokes himself, the other moves over his face, through his hair. His gaze meets Lawrence's, who smiles lazily at him.

"Missed me, brother?"

David keeps looking at him, but doesn't answer. The ecstasy rises up steadily inside of him, taking him over, his whole body is reaching for it, inviting it, it wells up in him from his feet and legs and ass into his cock and -

Lawrence slides the muzzle of the gun back into David's mouth, presses it lightly down on his tongue. "Don't come," he says calmly, "or I'll kill you."

For a fraction of a second David stares at him, his fevered mind darkening with a sudden, wild panic. His body convulses, but he can't stop himself, the fear tastes as good as the pleasure, the prospect of death merges with the promise of release - and then he already tumbles forward and his body shatters, dissolves into the deepest, darkest, most complete oblivion he has ever known.

He opens his eyes, too weak to move. The gun is gone, it lies in his brother’s hand on the back of the couch. His gaze glides hazily back up to his brother’s cum-splattered shirt and chest, and his grinning face. “Just kidding, brother.”

“Yeah,” David says hoarsely. “I... I knew that.”

With trembling knees he gets up and kneels down on the floor. A few seconds later he is lying bent over the seat of the couch, digging his nails into it and gritting his teeth as his brother fucks him hard and fast to attain his own shuddering climax. When Lawrence finally lets go of him, he lets himself sag to the floor, looking on as his brother puts the gun down on the coffee table, takes off his clothes, throws them in a corner and starts wandering around the room.

Before David can say anything, Lawrence has already found the bottle of scotch, pours them both a glass and sits down next to him. "I need to stay here for a while," he says.

David takes a sip and regards him for a moment. They both take after their father - the eyes, the nose, the hair. Only David has their mother's nervous trait around the lips, and Lawrence their father's easy, warm, seductive smile. Finally he nods. "You intimidated me into cooperating with that as well," he says quietly. "I knew I should call the police, but I was too afraid of you. I didn't dare refuse you anything."

To David's surprise, Lawrence's triumphant grin softens into an expression of genuine relief. He looks at David, his fingers caressing his brother's cheek. "And while I was here, you did everything I asked. Even if I forced you to commit the most disgusting sins. Sodomy. Incest." His voice drops to a whisper as he brings his lips closer to David's. "My poor, _innocent_ brother."

David's gaze flicks to the coffee table, where the weapon still lies, forgotten, like a magician's handkerchief after the trick has been performed. Then, with newly rising passion, he answers his brother's kiss.


End file.
